A Shot in the Dark
by Dark Angel Bakura
Summary: Owen carries an important case to Xanatos's meeting when something unexpected happens. Rated T for blood. 3rd person, Non-Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This was written forever ago from a dream I had (I have the WEIRDEST dreams), and I posted on my profile a while ago that I was gonna upload this (heh. A boatload of crap ****_that _****turned out to be...).**

**The Saturday after that, my friend (The Thiefshipper) was at a Joann's by my house, and I was like, why the frig not? So I hopped in my car and drove to my favorite store after Too Cool. When I got there, she nudged me and in total creeper mode said,**

**"Hey. I hear you're writing a Gargoyles fic." **

**Wagged eyebrows, creepy Hannibal-Lector grin and everything. So that has been our catchphrase.**

**But to the story...**

**This takes place after the second season. Note: I have not seen the Hunter's Moon episodes. You think I would, but I just keep either forgetting, or putting Supernatural, Star Trek, and Once Upon a Time above it.**

**Enjoy!**

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Owen Burnett cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, and picked the briefcase in his good hand. The receptionist at Xanatos Headquarters wished him a good night as Owen stepped out the door into the freezing cold rain. Owen didn't bother responding that he was still working and would be until Xanatos did not need him for anything.

In the meantime, Owen needed to transport and important case of money to Xanatos, who was in an important meeting in the downtown area. Owen looked at his watch and mentally calculated different routes that would get him to the place he needed to go as quickly as possible.

Then he set off towards a park that lead towards downtown Manhattan, clutching his coat tighter around his body. He passed the time by wondering why Xanatos would do business with a man Xanatos verbally considered a "fat, greedy slug with the intelligence of algae". But Xanatos apparently needed what that man sold. Owen chuckled to himself and the capriciousness of humans. He vaguely wondered what would happen if he took away that man's "product". He nearly snickered at the thought of the man's red, flabby face

Owen straightened his features into his usual wooden mask and continued walking against the driving sleet until the path emptied into a large, well-lit alleyway commonly used to get from the hustle and bustle of downtown to the relative peace and quiet of the residential areas. However, due to the magnitude and frigidness of the pouring raid, people had either taken cover in their homes or their favorite coffee shops.

Owen pressed on despite the increasing downpour. He cursed Xanatos's wish to "reduce his carbon footprint". If he hadn't known better, he would have thought Xanatos was making fun of his inability to do such advanced magic as controlling the rain or conjuring an umbrella. But that wasn't like Xantatos. He was much more subtle.

Owen sighed as the rain poured down even harder, if that was possible, staining his glasses with clear bubbles that obscured his vision. He shook his glasses clear and tightened his grip on the briefcase, turning his shoulders to avoid hitting a hooded teenage boy. The teenager took out a gun and pointed it at Owen.

Owen took a half step back in surprise before his curiosity kicked in, probably too much so for his human disguise.

But guns with real bullets! Xanatos prefered lasers: Quieter, simpler, and much harder to track. But Owen was quite interested with the more primitive idea of a metal ball being hurled at a target impossibly fast. The only time he had seen a real gun, he didn't have a good seat to watch it. (He had been perhaps a _little _too close.) He glanced at his wrist. Seven minutes to get this briefcase to Xanatos's meeting.

Unfortunately, the teen had other ideas. Perturbed by Owen's hungrily curious gaze and his unusual silence, the boy shook the gun at Owen. "Give me your gun, and you can be on your way." He said menacingly. O, at least it _would _have been menacing if the boy's voice hadn't cracked halfway through.

Owen furrowed his brow. "Wallet." He had heard that word before. Owen ran through a mental list of human contraptions, finally remembering what it was.

"Sorry. I don't have one." Owen replied, walking forward. The teen shoke his hea and shoved the gun forward. "Then give me any money you have." He hissed. This time his voice didn't crack. Owen sighed and rolled his eyes. Humans can be so _boring _sometimes. "Look. I need to take this to that big shiny building over there, then I'll be back. Then I'll give you some money." Owen said hurriedly. At this rate, he was going to be late unless luck was on his side.

The teen laughed shortly. "Yeah, right. I'm not an idiot." "Ehhhh... That's debatable." Owen said under his breath. The teen glared at him. "Just hand it over, and you can go."

Owen hummed. Perhaps he could change into his true form. The shock of it could possibly delay the human, and he had found ways around Big Daddy's restricitons to his magic without needing to teach Alexander. After all, a teacher needed to practice his craft...

Owen's grin shifted into Puck's and he wished that he could see what was going through that boy's head when he saw a normal looking Manhattan businessman transform into a slim young man with long white hair, elf ears, and clothes that hadn't been in style for a good thousand years or so.

"Hello, my name's Puck. No need to remember it. I'll just be going now. Puck started to flit away when the boy stepped in his path, gun shaking visibly. Puck stopped short, hovering a good foot and a half off the ground. "Wh-what the hell _are_ you? Some Legolas cosplayer or something?" Puck crossed his arms and let out a puff of exasperation through his scowl.

This human was taking his transformation relatively well. Perhaps the very surrealism of it all was making the boy think it was a simple "magic trick" (Puck gagged at the thought of his abilities being likened to the cheap tricks some humans pull)

Puck zipped up so he was nose to nose with the boy, the boy's gun pressed against his chest. The cold, wet metal pressed through his soaked clothes. "Hello again. Sorry to ruin your plans, but guns don't hurt me. Being a Child of Oberon and all..." Puck grinned and flitted a few feet away, still hovering off the ground.

"If you don't believe me, have a shot!" Puck spread his arms wide tantalizingly. If the human shot him, he would be shocked to find Puck, alive and well. Puck ruminated on what the human's thought process would be. But now's not the time for conjecture. Only three minutes to get to Xanatos.

Puck snickered and waved his outstretched arms. "C'mon! Or are you afraid of the big, bad fairy?" He asked sarcastically. "I guess I _am _a bit scary. Is it the eyes?" Puck leaned forward slightly, staring into the teen's green-brown eyes. "It's the eyes, isn't it?" Puck sighed overdramatically. "I can never decide between white and black. What do you think?"

There was a loud bang, and Puck's self satisfied smirk faltered. He landed uncertainly on his feet and looked down. Just below the center of his ribcage, a small figertip sized hole was gushing blood. Puck's breath stuttered as his knees turned to jelly, dumping him unceremoniously to the ground. Pain shot from his solar plexus to his brain with every heartbeat.

"Psycho." The teen spat. "Now where's your money?" The boy demanded, turning the semiconscious Child over, trying to find pockets. Apparently, he didn't realize that pockets didn't exist a thousand years ago. The boy swore. Through his blurred vision, Puck could see the boy's gaze alight upon Xanatos's briefcase. THe boy snapped it open, eyes widening at the sheer amount of money in front of him.

The boy stole a glance at Puck before snapping the briefcase shut and streaking off before anyone tried to find out if the crack had been that of a gunshot or thunder.

Puck's breath heaved in his chest, sending even more pain through his body, driving him closer to unconsciousness, a strange state for a Child of Oberon. He clapped a hand over the wound, the warm blood contrasting heavily with the cold rain driving into him. What had just happened? Had a human's bullet just hurt him?

Puck mentally cursed Big Daddy's restrictions and the fact that Alexander wouldn't be able to comprehend healing magics for a another few decades or so. He finally fell unconscious as a familiar shadow fell across him. Puck laughed to himself. _So the calvary arrives..._

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**A/N: Look, I don't know, okay? This just... popped... out of a dream I had of Puck getting shot, and there are so many Puck+OC fics out there. Here's something different! I think...**

**Read and Review, please? =w=**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So... This chap was writting when I got thrown out of Religion class. Yes, the first time I get kicked outta class, it's ****_Religion_****. At least I just forgot my book (She didn't let me go to my locker, but I got this done, so all's well that ends well.) **

**Whatever. Chapter 2!**

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Eliza gave a sigh of relief at Goliath's quick thinking. He had been scouting with Hudson and Broadway when they had heard a gunshot. Luckily, Puch had been brought to the clock tower before any humans had seen him. But now there was a magical fairy bleeding out on the floor.

"We can't take him to the hospital. He'd be a sideshow freak." Eliza muttered, pressing some old rags against the mind whirled. "Goliath." Goliath looked up from Puck's face. "Call up Matt on my radio and tell him to come up here now." Goliath obeyed, and five minutes later, Matt stepped onto the clock room floor. "What's up?" He asked, trying to peer through the crowd of Gargoyles.

Lexington and Bronx backed away. Matt's eyebrows flew into his hair. "Is that an _elf_?" He asked, kneeling beside Puck's head and curiously probing his pointed ear. "It's wet." He said in surprise, glancing at Eliza. "Matt." She said. Matt snapped to attention, realizing that the elf thing was hurt. He swore. "Matt, get me Xanatos's number. His private one." Eliza said, applying more pressure to the wound.

Matt got to his feet uncertainly. "What can he do?" He asked. Eliza sighed. "He's...involved. Just please trust me." Eliza stared at Matt evenly, and he sighed. "Fine." He stepped down the stairs. "Matt!" Mat whirled around. "Hurry. Puck's life is on the line." Eliza said seriously.

Matt nodded and shooted down the stairs.

* * *

Xanatos glances at his watch for the third time that minute. The only thing Xanatos liked about Owen, except for his brutal honesty, was his perfect punctuality.

"Mr. Xanatos, how long will your assistant take? I'm a busy man, after all." Xanatos fixed a glare on the businessman, who was leaning back on his office chair, feet propped up on his desk. Xanatos stood from his chair on the other side of the giant oak desk. "He will -" Xanatos was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. "Hello?" Xanatos flipped his cell phone and held up his pointer finger to the businessman.

"Hello, Owen. How-" Xanatos stopped short as he realized that a female voice spoke at the other end. "Why, Eliza! I hate to cut you short but-" "Owen's badly hurt." Eliza interrupted. Xanatos was silent as he processed what Eliza had just said. He turned his back to the businessman, who was looking quite interested in Xanatos's business. "What? H-how?" Xanatos worked hard to keep his voice cool and businesslike.

"He was shot in the solar plexus with a .50 calier Glock. He's nearing critical condition." Eliza said softly. Xanatos's head whirled. "He was _shot_? But that doesn't- Never mind. What do the doctors say?" Xanatos heard a sharp intake of breath. "He's in his Fae form. We can't do that."

Xanatos's heart plummeted. "Very well." His knees felt like jelly, but he managed to keep his voice neutral and somewhat jovial. "Bring him to the roof of my building, and I'll have some special doctors help him." Eliza agreed, and Xanatos zipped out of the office, not even bothering to say goodbye.

* * *

"He'll be fine." An old doctor who kept his mouth shut (for a fee, of course) just finished removing the bullet with the help of a young nurse who needed the job and the money that came from working with a multimillionare.

Xanatos didn't show it, but relief washed over him. "Thank you. When will he be conscious?" The doctor looked up from fastening his watch. "He's awake now." Xanatos opened the door to Owen's room. A man who could be mistaken for a teenage boy was lying on a posh, expensive-looking bed, especially considering it was never used.

Xanatos brought over a chair from the desk and straddled it, watching Puck's closed eyes and deep breathing. Xanatos waited a few seconds, then spoke up. "I know you're awake." Puck's eyes opened, and he floated to a more comfortable position.

"So the doctor blabbed, eh? Too bad. I was hoping you would get all melodramatic. Oh well, c'est la vie."

Puck shrugged. Xanatos stared at him for a while. Puck sighed. "Fine! The doctor said that it was an iron bullet, of all things. I mean, how many people make bullets out of iron nails and then go around shooting people?" He demanded, scowling.

Xanatos nodded, ignoring the fairy's temper tantrum. "When will you be able to get to work?" He asked. Puck grinned and shifted into Owen's form, where his grin turned into a serious expression. "The iron was messing with my natural healing powers. I am perfectly able to do anything you need.

"Very well. Please copy and fax this to Mr. Rickal. Tell him I expect and answer by this time tomorrow." Xanatos walked out the door.

"Yes, sir."

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**A/N: Hiya! Well, that took a LOT longer than expected...**

**But I'm finalyl done with this and can finish writing my NaNoWriMo novel and continue SFW (My Yu-Gi-Oh fic)**

**Also, I hinted to a situation where Xanatos and Owen were in danger of being shot, but I couldn't weave it into the story without it being awkward and choppy, so if anyone wants to know, I'll write up what I had planned and post it. It'll only be about a chapter.**

**Read and Review, please? =w=**


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